


Lovers' Curry

by sonlali



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Bodily Functions, Diarrhea, Food Poisoning, Friendship, Gen, Humor, I Don't Even Know, Sorry Not Sorry, Vomiting, bathroom emergencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali
Summary: Based on the prompt “Why are you shaking?”Set during "The Jazzaguy." David and Stevie's experiences with the lovers' curry.
Relationships: Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 20
Kudos: 25





	Lovers' Curry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nervouscupcakeinspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace/gifts).



> [cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace): this one is just for my own amusement. i apologize XD 
> 
> CW: they have food poisoning. there is vomiting and diarrhea. i don't go into great detail, but if you're really sensitive to vomit, diarrhea, or fics about bodily functions, maybe sit this one out.

“Why are you shaking?” David recoils slightly from Stevie, who has abruptly gone a sickly shade of gray. She moves one trembling hand to wipe at her sweaty brow. “Why are you so sweaty? You weren’t this sweaty a few minutes ago!”

“I don’t know, David!” Stevie shouts with obvious frustration. She closes her eyes and swallows thickly. “I don’t—I don’t feel… oh, god!” She belches and puts both hands over her mouth, racing toward the bathroom at top speed.

“Oh my god! What is happening? Are you pregnant?! Is it _Jake’s_?!” David bypasses concern and dives straight into full panic mode. “Should I look up nearby pharmacies? Do we need to find a clinic? Oh my _god_ , do you want to keep it?!”

Stevie only retches in response, which doesn’t give David any useful feedback as to how he should proceed. He promptly opens a dozen new tabs in the browser on his phone. WebMD is clearly a mistake, and David has to sit down to catch his breath. 

“Stevie! Stevie, oh my god! Do you think you might have an ulcer? Or appendicitis? Or, oh god, an intestinal obstruction?” David brings a hand to his chest in horror. “Fuck! What if you have scarlet fever?!”

“David, shut the fuck up!” Stevie manages to yell before emitting another unearthly sound so horrific that David presses his hands over his ears. He counts to 60 before uncovering his ears and listening. There seems to be a temporary ceasefire, so to speak, so David takes a few tentative steps toward the bathroom door. 

“Um… do you need me to hold your hair?” 

Stevie groans weakly, and David feels a wave of guilt. He opens several more tabs and starts searching for remedies for whatever plague it is that Stevie might have. 

“Do you… should I get you some ginger ale? Or maybe I can call down to the lobby and see if they have any medicine?” 

Stevie doesn’t respond, so David walks back to the bed and takes a seat. He’s actually not feeling very well himself. He supposes listening to someone vomit for the past 15 minutes would make anyone feel ill. His stomach does an uncomfortable flip, and maybe he shouldn’t have eaten so much of that lovers’ curry. As if his digestive system has somehow read David’s mind, an almighty burbling sound comes from his stomach. Everything happens very quickly after that.

“Oh god. Oh no, oh fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Stevie!” David flings himself at the bathroom door and pounds on it with his fists. “Open up, open up!”

“Fuck off! I’m kind of busy in here,” Stevie yells.

“Stevie, I’m serious! It’s the goddamn lovers’ curry! We’ve been poisoned! Let me in!”

The door opens and for one panicked moment, they just stare at each other, wild-eyed and frantic. Then all hell breaks loose. There’s a frenzied battle as they both fight for the toilet, which David eventually wins by shoving Stevie into the shower stall and pulling the curtain closed.

“David! You little sh—” Stevie pauses at the sound. “Oh, no. Okay, you get the toilet, you get the toilet. _Fuck!_ ”

“Don’t listen! Don’t listen!” David screeches and reaches over to turn on the tap in the sink.

“Trust me, that is not drowning out _any_ of what is happening here.”

“Oh god!” David doubles over, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Then leave!”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go… _fuuuuuck!_ ” 

David feels his entire life flashing before his eyes in this tasteless bathroom surrounded by the horrific sounds springing forth from both his and Stevie’s bodies, the unholy stench, and the towels folded into fucking swans. 

“ _Oh, when you walk by every night… Talkin' sweet and—_ Shit, fuck, motherfucking ballsack. _Lookin' fine. I get kinda hectic inside._ ” David is shouting at the top of his voice.

“What the _flying fuck_ is happening right now?” Stevie shrieks. “Have you shit out your mind?!”

“I’m drowning out the sound! Obviously! You’re Ol’ Dirty Bastard, come on. Come ON, Stevie!” David continues scream-singing Mariah Carey’s _Fantasy_ , off-key and shrill. 

“Are you _shitting_ me right now, David?”

“No, I’m shitting myself, thanks. So fucking sing with me, so neither of us have to hear our own bodily functions any more!” David’s entire body is shaking. He’s surely been possessed by a demon as punishment for their fraudulent marriage scam against this god awful hotel. 

Stevie, bless her, only pauses momentarily before picking up her part as Ol’ Dirty Bastard in between dry heaving. 

“I think it’s safe to say that our bodies have forcibly expelled all of the fancy wine from Patrick,” Stevie quips after an indeterminable amount of time howling lyrics at each other. 

“Don’t talk about my—my… Patrick while my asshole is literally on fire!” 

“Surely Patrick has seen your asshole like that before. That’s just a regular Friday night pounding each other raw, am I right?” 

“Drown yourself in your own vomit, please! Thanks so much!” David flushes as aggressively as he can manage. 

\--

Minutes, or perhaps hours, pass and David finally emerges from the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs. Stevie is lying on the bed in a bathrobe—she declared her clothes a lost cause—and scrolling through her phone. David does not even remember when she left the bathroom. He’s exerting all of his remaining energy in an attempt to burn this entire evening from his memory. 

Their eyes meet and David sees his own trauma reflected in Stevie’s gaze. They speak simultaneously. 

“Never speak of this again.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr [@landofsonlali](https://landofsonlali.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
